Snow
by bipping
Summary: Gilbert hates snow. Gilbert hates Christmas. Gilbert hates a lot of things. But the thing he hates most is the perfect Austrian boy, his beautiful Hungarian girlfriend and the awesome albino; the albino who is the reason that he and the Austrian boy are no longer together.


**Author's Note: **

Going to try to keep this as short as possible. Merry Christmas to everyone, but especially to that person! She know's who she is (which is good, because if she didn't know who she was, I imagine bad shit would go down come January, when we get our Christmas present from a) the school, b) the government and c) our teachers. I am of course refering to EXAMS! If she didn't know who she was, she might steal my identity, which'd suck)

I think this is kinda like a high school AU or whatever, but I don't even know anymore. Characters seem to act pretty OOC for this, which sucks. I apologise for that. And for my awful spelling and grammar ect. I do proof-read, but still...

Sucky title is sucky...

Still not Hidekaz Himaruya, which means that I do not own Hetalia. I don;t know why I always say "still not Hidekaz Himaruya". Am I really expecting to just wake up one morning and realise I'm Hidekaz Himaruya? Really? Am I that stupid?

Some pretty damn vulgar language is used. Just an advanced warning.

* * *

><p>He hated snow.<p>

He hated the way it would make everyone else smile, and rejoice, as though they'd been given some wonderful gift. They hadn't. They were still standing in the cold. Snow was just like rain, yet he didn't see children skip school to play in that. Wasn't that racist or something? He assumed so. Everything was discriminatory these days.

He hated the way that, as soon as it snowed, everyone was all "YAY! CHRISTMAS!" Christmas was another thing he hated. He could remember a time when it had been the greatest night of the year, the day he would wait all year for, the only time all his family and friends would come together to bask in how awesome he was - I mean, the time they'd all gather around to celebrate peace and love. But he'd quickly found that Christmas was no fun when you spent it alone.

He hated the way snow would settle in his hair and atop his eyelashes. He hated how other boys would have a girl at their side, and she would brush it out of their hair, giggling. And then, to cease her from complaining about how cold she was, he would pull her closer, hug her to him, and carefully grace her lips with a kiss.

Okay, he understood that not all boys had a girl at their side. He understood that not all boys had anyone at their side. But this one did. This one, who was the real reason he hated snow.

His red eyes narrowed to a glare, and he continued to watch him walk hand-in-gloved-hand with someone who wasn't him.

He felt his heart shatter, because he knew it should be him.

He watched the girl flick a stray strand of her hair over her shoulder. He couldn't hear their conversation, but he knew he'd give anything to be a part of it. The couple continued on their way, oblivious to his intense gaze.

"Why don't you just go over and speak to him?"

"Huh?" Distracted from his slightly perverted stalkerish staring, he turned to face the solemn face blonde sitting across the bench from him. He rolled his eyes. "You've been watching him for at least ten minutes. Would it really kill you to actually make contact?"

"I have not been watching anyone! I have no idea what you are talking about, and even if I did, I am way too awesome to get off my ass, trudge through however much snow there is just to go speak to some guy!"

His brother rolled his eyes again. "Gilbert, you can't keep pretending you don't care about what happened."

"I care about a lot of shit! And in case you aren't awesome enough to notice, a lot of stuff has happened during the course of my life, so how the hell am I supposed to know what-"

"I mean what happened in February," he cut him off mid sentence. "And, if that still isn't enough information to help you relate it to a particular event, allow me to add a final word."

Gilbert closed his eyes, scowling at the memories that were already resurfacing, and dreading the last word Ludwig wanted to add to them.

"Roderich."

Roderich. Gilbert had to admit that he'd always thought it was a stupid name. He remembered the first day of secondary school, when the teacher had called it on the register, and he'd smiled to himself thinking, "Poor kid, stuck with a name as unawesome as that for the rest of his life. I'll just have to end up his friend. With a name like that, he's gunna need all the additional awesome he can get." He'd slowly come to accept that Roderich was the perfect name for the Austrian. It was gentle and soft, and trickled from his lips like water from a riverbed. It was sophisticated, like Roderich himself. Had Roderich been given another name, Gilbert doubted that he would have grown into the same man he was going to become.

Gilbert had done as he had planned, and decided to befriend the boy. Turning around in his seat to introduce himself to him, he had immediately taken in Roderich's dark hair and light violet eyes. Although he looked weak and demure, he wore a frown that said "I can look after myself!" and seemed to take an immediate dislike to Gilbert (something he'd assumed was due to his jealousy at having a sucky name like Roderich whilst he had an awesome name like Gilbert). The boys had had numerous lessons together, and slowly grew to be...no one really classified them as friends. They got along, they hung out, but Roderich was always closer to some weird Swiss kid, who was so unawesome Gilbert couldn't remember his name. Gilbert didn't really care at the time, because he had Francis Bonnefoy and Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, who he had dubbed the two most awesome people on Earth after him, and Elizaveta Héderváry; a girl who had once been so awesome, he didn't even care that she was a girl. She had been his friend, until she became a complete bitch and shoved her slutty tongue down Roderich's poor, unsuspecting throat.

Because that was the real reason he hated snow; it had been snowing when Roderich had broken his heart.

* * *

><p>He had slowly come to terms that he loved Roderich, and could tell the Austrian felt the same way. It wasn't obvious to anyone but Gilbert. He could tell it in the quick glances he took at him across tables and classrooms, and the gentle smile he only gave to Gilbert. So he had decided to do something about it. And he;d decided to do it in the most awesome way possible.<p>

Of course, when at school, nothing is awesome.

So he settled for the next best thing: Lunch break.

Roderich tended to spend most lunch breaks in the library. He was always studying or reading or, he was when Gilbert found him that day, composing music. He had a pencil in one had, and blank sheet music in front of him. As Gilbert sat down, the lead in Roderich's pencil snapped. He muttered something angrily to himself, then grabbed for his sharpener.

"Here," smiled Gilbert, passing it to him.

Roderich looked up, completely amazed that someone had joined him. "Thanks."

"Don't worry about it. It's the job of someone as awesome as me to help less awesome people."

He rolled his eyes. Had it been anyone else, they would have picked up his irritated aura, and nothing else. They wouldn't notice the way his lips curled up in an amused smile, or how he glanced down and made a point of not making eye contact with Gilbert. But, because he was awesome, Gilbert had noticed all these things. And they had strengthened his resolve.

At least, he'd decided they'd strengthened his resolve; he wasn't entirely sure what the term meant, but he liked the sound of it, and decided it was awesome, and therefore could be applied to him.

"Hey Roderich, I was just wondering, since I'm so awesome and all, would you like to meet up this weekend?"

Roderich looked up. "What are you planning on doing?"

"Well, there's this guy in our German, and he's nearly as awesome as me, but obviously not as awesome as me because, you know, that'd be impossible, and I kind of like him, and so I thought I might ask him out."

Was it just his imagination, or did a hint of jealousy work it's way into those beautiful eyes? "Really?" Roderich asked in a nonchalant manner.

"Yeah, you might know him actually. His name's Roderich Edelstein."

A blush crept over Roderich's face. "You...You're asking me out? As in, on a date?"

"Did I not make it obvious enough?"

His secret smile spread. "I'd like to go out with you Gilbert."

"Dude, who wouldn't? I mean, I'm awesome!"

And, for the first time, Roderich didn't roll his eyes at Gilbert's ego. He laughed. He laughed and replied, "That you are Gilbert, very much so."

And the hand that was holding the pencil sharpener stopped holding the pencil sharpener, and started holding the one Gilbert had shoved in it.

And Gilbert had vowed to himself that this moment would never be forgotten. He promised this would be the highlight of his existence. At least, until something awesomer came along.

* * *

><p>He stared at him, his red eyes cold. "No, I don't remember that."<p>

"You don't?" Roderich scarf blew out behind him. He looked so sweet, so innocent. Gilbert struggled to believe what he'd done. But he knew he had. And it would not be forgiven.

"No," he repeated. "I don't remember ever being happy around you."

Tears dripped down Roderich's cheeks, stinging in the bitter cold. "But-"

"You aren't the same person you were," snarled Gilbert, his face contorted with hatred. "You are not the Roderich I fell in love with. Because he would never to something so fucked up and unawesome as this."

The snow continued to fall. It was gentle, soothing. In the distance somewhere, he could hear some younger students having a snowball fight. They were screaming and shouting, their voices so full of joy.

He wondered why his life couldn't be full of joy.

"It didn't mean anything Gil! I didn't want to-"

"WELL, OBVIOUSLY YOU DID, OTHERWISE YOU WOULDN'T HAVE FUCKED THE BITCH, WOULD YOU?"

He hadn't meant to yell, and regretted it as soon as he did. He saw Roderich flinch at the hate in his voice.

"It wasn't like that," he said softly, clearly trying to keep calm. "I didn't touch her like that..."

"So how did you touch her? Where did you touch her?"

He shook his head, frantically. "Not like that Gil! We might've...I might've kissed her a few times...and we did sleep together, but not...we weren't intimate or anything! It was just cold...we just slept in the same bed. Honest Gil! It didn't mean anything!"

He rolled his eyes. "If it didn't mean anything, how come it's taken you two months to tell me about it? And don't you dare pretend that you and her haven't been meeting up during those two months, because I've seen the looks you two have given each other when you thought no one was looking, and I've heard all the rumours from Francis!"

He breathed in deeply, his voice beginning to tremble. "Gilbert, please believe me. I-"

"You what?"

Roderich closed his eyes. "I love you. I would never do something to hurt you-"

He laughed. "Never do anything- Never do anything to hurt me?" His voice grew louder as he repeated himself. "So what was going behind my back and snogging Elizaveta, my fucking birthday present?"

He looked down. Gilbert continued to rant, realising he wouldn't provoke a response from the Austrian. " Was that really not meant to hurt?"

"I...I was drunk Gilbert...We both know I'm not great with alcohol."

Gilbert bit his lip. It was true that his "boyfriend" did lose his refined gentlemanly attitude when he drank, and his judgement did get slightly clouded, but to Gilbert, that justified nothing. "If you're not great with alcohol, why did you drink it?"

The question shut Roderich up.

"You know what hurts the most? It's not that you cheated on me, it's that you did it with Elizaveta. Elizaveta, who is supposedly my oldest friend. Elizaveta, who was my best friend when she was some crazy-assed freak that none of the other girls wanted to play with her. Elizaveta, who grew up with me, partially convinced she was a boy." He scowled, remembering the things he and Elizaveta used to do together. Memories of summer days climbing trees and skinning knees, and getting lost in the muddy wilderness that was the park in the street down from hers, and chasing all the other kids with sticks, claiming to be the long dead spirits of their ancestors. He remembered Elizaveta's horror when she had discovered she was actually a girl. They'd been about eight, and he'd told her that she was too awesome to be a girl, everyone was making it up. Even the teachers had treated her like a boy, always allowing her to be on the boys team (although, he supposed that was because all the other girls made fun of her, and she hit them in the face in a form of retaliation).

"Gilbert...I don't know what to say. You just have to believe it was a mistake-"

"Have you been meeting up with her?" His voice was almost emotionless. He was still, calmer.

"Wh- what?"

"Have you been meeting up with that bitch in secret?" This time he lost control. He spat his words at Roderich, who looked down and mumbled, "Yes."

Gilbert nodded, chewing his tongue. "Thought as much." He shook his head. "Then we don't need each other, do we?"

"What do you- what are you saying?" Roderich's eyes flew up, and met Gilbert's cold gaze.

"I'm saying that we are over. We've only got what, a year and a half left at this shitty little school, and you can fuck off to whatever prissy university you get accepted into, and I can spend the rest of my days being awesome somewhere."

Roderich's lips parted ever so slightly. It looked as though he was about to speak, but the words wouldn't leave the shelter of his mouth. His lips were trembling, but whether that was from the cold, or his sorrow, Gilbert neither knew nor cared.

He turned to leave.

"Gilbert, wait!"

He stopped, but he didn't turn back to face the Austrian, aware of the fact that he may not be able to resist his tears, and hold him in his arms until he stopped crying. He reminded himself of how unawesome Roderich had been, and gritted his teeth. "What do you want?"

"Is there...Is there we no way we can-"

"No." Gilbert cut him off. "But I want you to remember that there could've been. Once. I want you to remember how happy the two of us were once, and live forever with the guilt of slaying that happiness before it had a chance to grow into something...awesomer. The things we did can't be undone Roderich, no matter how straight you've decided you are now."

And he had walked away, blocking out Roderich's sobs with the sound of Roderich's laughs. He decided to replay his happiest memories one final time, before burying them forever. Because remembering hurt far more than anything else.

He'd learnt that when he'd lost his parents. He'd learnt that living in a constant world of darkness was far better than revisiting the past, because it made returning to the present so much harder.

"I'm going to forget everything," he yelled over his shoulders to Roderich. "You are a fucking unawesome bastard, and you don't deserve to be associated with the Roderich I remember. And, since you're obviously a complete pussy, when the stress of living with so much guilt finally gets to you, I suggest you forget too."

* * *

><p>Gilbert scowled. "I don't know what you're on about Ludwig."<p>

The younger brother looked back to the textbook he was studying, clearly deciding not to waste any more effort on his brother. Gilbert asked himself why he was even hanging out with the arrogant brat. He resolved to go and find Francis and Antonio, then remembered why he was sat with Ludwig. Antonio had insisted it was far too cold outside in the snow for his "boyfriend"- quotation marks are used because Gilbert was of the opinion that said boyfriend didn't really have much choice as too whether the couple were an item or not- and had instead decided to keep him warm inside with both the heating and his constant hugging, whilst Francis was off stalking his latest victim- I mean conquest- no, that still sounds wrong- lover- lover? Yes, Francis was stalking his latest...lover, who Gilbert believed to be some American with a name like Malcolm, or Mark or- oh, he'd remember it later!

He attempted to take his eyes off of the pair and scanned the snow-covered playground looking for a familiar face. He saw that Polish kid land head first in the snow whilst that scary Russian guy laughed. That annoying Jones kid ran across the playground and threw his arms around that other annoying dude...the one with the eyebrows, distracting him from his conversation and causing him to spill a flask full of hot liquid onto the snow, melting it upon contact.

He also noticed his brother's boyfriend, who proceeded to skip merrily through the snow, and pop himself down next to Ludwig. With mittened hands, he grabbed the Germans arm and snuggled up to it.

"Veh," he smiled, his breath turning to ice,"it's cold, isn't it?"

This observation received a nod from Ludwig, who didn't even take his eyes off of the page he was studying to acknowledge the Italians presence, and a round of slow sarcastic applause from Gilbert. This went unnoticed by the boy, who was fully kitted out for the weather with a scarf and some ear muffs to match his mittens, and was resting quite contently against Ludwig, his eyes closed almost as if to suggest he was planning on falling asleep.

This inspired Gilbert. He was going to have a little fun.

"Hey," he started,"have you two fucked yet?"

Ludwig's head snapped up. He stared at him with wide eyes. And then, to Gilbert's shock- he wasn't sure if it was horrified shock or amused shock- Feliciano began to cry.

And Gilbert had the worst possible reaction to this; he began to laugh.

It wasn't because he found it funny; laughing was just his natural reaction to shock. When his grandfather had gotten off of the phone with the hospital and informed him of his parent's death, eight-year-old Ludwig had stood in stunned silence, whilst the awesome eleven-year-old him had burst into hysterics. Of course, he loved his parents. He hadn't found it amusing; he'd been shocked.

Ludwig placed his arm comfortingly around Feliciano, although no one, not even Feliciano himself, was entirely sure why he was crying.

"Gilbert, maybe you should leave," he said.

"But I was only asking-"

"Gilbert!"

"Fine! Mein Gott, why are you so damn unawesome?" Rising from his seat, he glared at the pair. "The dude has to accept that you're gonna do it some day-"

Feliciano clamped his hands down on his ear muffs and cried even louder.

"Gil-"

"I'm going, I'm going!"

Where exactly he was going, he had no idea. He was just getting away from his insanely unawesome little brother. He grumbled to himself. Maybe he'd go annoy- no they were off sick today. He folded his arms, and then ducked, narrowly avoiding a snowball. Infuriated at the prospect of being hit, he stormed in the direction of the thrower, shoving other students out of the way. He heard a loud crunch somewhere to his left, followed by a sharp burst of laughter, and guessed that the Lithuanian kid had joined his Polish friend in the snow.

To his surprise- no, not his actual surprise. That was sarcasm- the thrower appeared to be that obnoxiously loud blonde guy who had some stupid name and stupid hair to match. He appeared to just be lobbing snowballs everywhere, and no one was safe. One hit that scary bitch in the back of her neck, and she turned around, her face contorted into a cruel smile, blue eyes wide, yet narrowed in anger.

"Mathais," she yelled in an accent that made Gilbert shudder. "I am going to destroy you!"

The smallest of the four other boys sitting with Mathais hid behind the tallest, who merely adjusted his glasses. Another rose from his seat in the snow and left. The final boy grabbed Mathais' arm and tried to drag him away from the fight.

Bring it Natalia!" Mathais shouted back.

In response, she knelt down and had built a rather large snowball in a matter of seconds; a snowball she then sent hurtling towards Mathais' face.

It hit it's mark.

In another matter of seconds, the playground went from a bunch of students enjoying their lunch break, relishing the snow, to an all out snowball war, mainly between the sixth-formers, but with a couple of uniformed younger kids caught in the crossfire.

Gilbert scowled, shoving his hands into his pockets. He hated snowball fights.

Or at least, he did until that Swedish kid threw one that hit Roderich squarely in the face, knocking off his glasses. Elizaveta seemed angry about this. She threw a snowball straight back, her face not longer innocent, eyes gleaming at the prospect of violence.

Yeah...that bitch could be as scary as the Belarusian girl sometimes. Especially in Home Ec. Gilbert had learnt the hard way never to trust her with a frying pan.

The snowball war provided a great distraction. He pulled his hood up, wove his way through the chaos to Roderich, who was scrambling around in the snow, trying to locate his glasses, and grabbed his arm.

The Austrian yelped in surprise. He had no idea what was going on, who had grabbed him, or where they were dragging him too.

Gilbert had no idea where he was going with this. He supposed he wanted a chance to say all that he'd forgotten to say ten months ago.

And that's why he found himself dragging Roderich to the small abandoned piece of playground they had stood in together the last time it snowed, between the English corridor and the Maths department. He could still hear the snowball fight in the distance.

It all felt very familiar.

"Roderich...I'm sorry."

He squinted at him. "Gilbert? Is that you?"

"Of course it's me! Could you not recognise my supremely awesome voice?"

"I've...I've never heard you apologise to anyone before. It didn't seem like the sort of thing you'd ever even think about doing, so I had to check."

Gilbert wasted a perfectly good glare on someone who couldn't see it. "Yeah, well, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For not trusting you, you idiot! For swearing and yelling at you when you tried to apologise, and then making your life a misery since! I'm sorry I've teased you, and stole your shit, and I'm sorry for punching you in that face that one time (even though it was a supremely awesome punch! I mean, it broke your fucking glasses!)."

"That was all months ago. I took your advice and forgot about it."

"I'm glad you did. You seem perfectly happy with that frying pan bitch."

Roderich sighed at the nickname.

"But the thing is priss, I couldn't forget. I still can't forget. And I know that if I hadn't been so fucking unawesome, I would be the one making you happy!"

"We're complete opposites Gil. It would have happened eventually."

"You're missing the point!" He grabbed his shoulders.

"What is the point?"

"The point is...the point is...I don't know. I don't know what the point is! Maybe there is no point!"

Roderich slowly and gently pried Gilbert's hands from his shoulders.

"The point is I don't hate you priss. I could never hate you."

Roderich smiled. "And I you."

Gilbert soaked up that smile. It was the one Roderich gave only to him. It felt like the last ten months hadn't happened. His Roddy had told him what had happened on Christmas Eve, and he;d forgiven him. He never wanted this moment to end.

All too soon the illusion was shattered by that bitch. who had come round the corner yelling, "Roddy, I've got your glasses!"

They both turned. Smiling, Elizaveta placed them in Roderich's outstretched hand.

"Look at that, Specs has his specs back," Gilbert snarled.

"Better put them on," she said, ignoring Gilbert's comment, which was odd, because she'd have usually hit him for calling Roderich any name other than his own. Was it just Gilbert, or was her voice shaking. She was smiling, but she looked as though she wanted to cry. "I'm sure you'd like to see the face of the man you love."

"What?" asked both Gilbert and Roderich, confused.

Laughing, Elizaveta said, "You think I didn't know that what we had was only temporary. "It was always you two. It was obvious that the two of you were going to be together, right from the beginning."

Gilbert looked sheepishly towards Roderich. "I…I'd like everything to go back to how it was before."

Roderich shook his head. "It'll never be how it was before."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll…you'll never be able to trust me again."

Gilbert smiled. "I could learn to trust you."

But still, Roderich shook his head. "I hurt you Gil…I never want to do that again."

Unable to contain it any longer, Gilbert threw his arms around Roderich. "You'll never hurt me again. I'm far too awesome to get hurt by someone like you!"

Roderich felt himself begin to smile.

Elizaveta reached into her pocket. "I've got something for you too Gil."

She placed it into his hand. His smile doubled.

"Well that's awesome. Thanks."

"Why? What is it? What did she give you?"

He smiled mischievously at the shorter boy. "Mistletoe."

* * *

><p><strong>Extended AN:**

Well, you've read it. I can only apologise for this.

This appears to be the longest story I've uploaded. It's pretty sucky though. Nine whole pages of sucky. Yay!

Um...bad ending is bad...I can't write happy shit. I believe this was established by _Little Bird_ and _Mistakes_. But I remembered that this is a Christmas present, and tried my best.

I know I told you to expect USUK, but they seem to be a damn hard pairing to write for. Rest assured, I will write that damn oneshot for you Person! I will!

Whoever you may be, whether you celebrate it or not, I hope that your Christmas is as awesome as Prussia.


End file.
